RYDER

That morning Ryder had made his way (by a means which he would not be disclosing just yet) into the closest small town, where he stopped off at one of the more familiar local dinners that he and Kota happened to come by every once and a while. Restaurant policy didn't typically allow for pets inside. But for him, the particular guy and his canine, they made an exception.

And he was there because he was in dire need to get away from his damn houseguests. Had it been mentioned before that he really didn't like people?

Especially when they invaded his personal space. Heck, the only reason he had yet to actually shoot someone was because of Maize.

That, and the fact that she had shown up on accounts of a favour he owed to another friend back in Mexico City.

A favour that somehow extended by association to a group of unruly cops who had seemingly zero respect—for his house and his dishes.

When this is all over I'm done doing people any more favours, he thought to himself begrudgingly as he sat in the booth in the very corner of the small dinner. He was leaned half with his back against the window, staring out at the street outside. He didn't sit normally by any means; propping both his legs over the rest of the seat and crossing them at the angles like he was sitting in a lounge chair. But that was more so to make room for Kota, who lay docile at his feet like a giant mound of black fur as he slept soundly under the table.

Ryder had one forearm propped up over the surface of the table as his fingers drummed absently, his hands still adored with another pair of black fingerless gloves.

He was simply enjoying the peace and quiet for a little while. He tried to anyway.

It wouldn't have been a problem, shouldn't have been a problem, if not for the strange guy he knew was watching him from the other end of the dinner.

Wearing a dark jacket and ball cap to seem inconspicuous but to also blend in, the man's eyes constantly darted towards Ryder. He knew because he could see everything from the reflection on the window.

Ryder didn't look the guy's way once, but he didn't need to. He didn't do anything to tip the guy off that he had noticed him whatsoever. Ryder knew he had never seen that man before, and something about the way he was observing him didn't give Ryder the impression that the guy was simply doing it because the guy thought he was good looking.

Then the waitress came over, a warm brown coffee cup to go in her hand as she set it on the table within easy reach of Ryder's hand.

"One dark roast cinnamon cappuccino for the moody man with the dog," she relayed, a subtle smile on her lips as she flashed a sweet look down at Kota, who had lifted his head at her arrival and was giving his tail a small wag.

Ryder rolled his eyes and didn't make a reach for the cup. He hadn't ordered it, but the familiar aroma of the beverage he happened to order quite often whenever he came to this place drifted up to his nose in a mix of coffee and cinnamon. Not exactly the kind of preference one would think for someone like him, everyone seemed to assume he drank his coffee black and tasteless. Not true.

What could he say? He liked the sweet little things in life. Including flavour to what was always much-needed caffeine in the morning.

He had looked away from the glass of the window when she had approached, and now he was staring up at her from his seat with a blank frown.

"Yes, yes I know you didn't order it, but it's on the house. You looked a little more doom and gloom than usual even from all the way where I was standing behind the counter, so I thought I'd make it for you since it's the only thing you ever really order here," she said with an almost bothered sigh as she relayed that particular fact.

"It's the only good thing you have," Ryder answered with a shrug, ignoring her observational comments.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that and hope that it was not an insult to my service," she replied tersely.

"Probably best," he returned. He then glanced at the cup sitting near his hand and picked it up, feeling the easing warmth through the leather of his gloved palms. "Thanks anyway, you didn't have to."

"Of course I didn't have to," she responded with a knowing look. "But I did it anyway, so quit with the constant scowling and lighten up a bit."

Ryder thought for a minute. "I'm good."

She gave him a raised pointed look at that. "You sure? You should try smiling for once, Ryder, it might brighten up that storm cloud mood of yours..." At his look of unamused scrutiny she seemed to give up a little, that much was clear from the loud sigh that escaped her mouth. "Or not...Well, can't say I didn't try." Her tone was light and exaggerated, and it made it sound like he was a puzzling case.

"Leave it be, Sarah, or this time I'm not leaving a good tip," he muttered.

She scoffed, "When do you ever?"

Ryder, annoyed at her comment, swung his legs back onto the ground and stood up inconspicuously, reaching into his back pocket and dropping a green twenty dollar bill on the table. "There, that enough for you?"

Sarah barely glanced at it and rolled her eyes. "I was joking, Ryder."

"Well I'm not. Thanks for the coffee," he smirked ever so slightly. "And now you can't say I always skipped out on the tips."

The waitress stared after him and shook her head in astonished bewilderment as he slid past her and headed for the exit with his cup in hand and Kota following soundlessly beside him.

"Always a pleasure dealing with you, Ryder," she laughed with amusement when he rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Have a good day," he returned as he gave her a backhanded wave and allowed the dinner door to close behind him and Kota. From there, he turned and began walking down the street at a leisurely pace. Just as he unexpected, a few seconds later, he heard the little ding of the restaurant bell ring as someone else exited the dinner after him.

Kota let out a low rumble in his throat on the bridge of becoming a growl, but Ryder made a subtle sound from his teeth akin to a sharp whistle and the canine seized his warning.

Ryder listened as the lone pair of footsteps began to trail after him, following at a safe distance behind in an act trying to go unnoticed without the possible risk of losing him. But Ryder was not your everyday average citizen, he could not be tricked so easily.

He had known the exact time the man walked in, the number of times he indiscreetly watched him while he thought he wasn't looking, and now, his following him out of the dinner only confirmed his suspicions that someone was on his tail.

Ryder chose to play along.

He acted the part where he didn't notice a thing. Didn't glance behind him once. Didn't give away any indication that he knew his every move was being followed whatsoever.

And it seemed his stalker bought it, for they kept up their act as well. As far as three streets.

That's when it finally dawned on Ryder; that the guy wasn't just following him around aimlessly, he was trying to figure out where he was going.

Three guesses why.

Dammit.

Ryder inwardly cursed this disruptive nuisance in his head and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked, ever so slightly putting more forcefulness into his strides.

The man following him didn't notice the subtle change in his way of pace as he kept a distance of at least seven meters behind at all times, he made the mistake of being more attentive to the massive canine walking along the sidewalk seemingly on free reign than the man himself. Since the dog seemingly hadn't picked up on him, he wouldn't have possibly guessed that his target had.

That underestimation was the first mistake the member of the Zmeya gang had unwillingly made.

He watched ahead as a few moments later, a skinny figure in a sweater with headphones and a hood up, looking directly down at his phone walked right in the way of the canine owner.

His shoulder slammed into him rather harshly, earning a sharp snap from the man to the oblivious teen. Steel-like eyes glared at the back of the tall hooded kid as he continued to walk away without a word. The black shepherd could be heard growling out a low rumble at the person who had run into his master, but after a passing moment, the man simply glared and motioned for his dog to follow before the two turned and carried on their course.

The tailing gang member's pursuit did not waver, though he was certain, there was a moment when the canine owner had been knocked into, a split second, where his eyes had flashed in his direction.

He had been noticed, seen.

That fact was too late to change. He would have to proceed more carefully now, so as not to make himself seem any more conspicuous.

The gang member made the cautious decision to fall back on some more distance between him and the dog owner, knowing that the little information he had been given did not say a lot about the fellow he was meant to follow, or his level of danger. Nevertheless, between the build of the guy and the large dog beside him, he wouldn't be taking any chances and risk being caught.

He followed for five more streets. For the life of him he could not figure out where the guy ahead of him was heading. It seemed aimless.

But nevertheless, he continued to trail behind several paces back.

Then the man and his shepherd turned a corner. A few seconds later, the gang member turned the same corner onto a new street, but his back went rigid and his eyes went wide as he realized that the two he was meant to keep track of were not there.

Immediately he picked up his pace and walked down the short cut road, hoping that he would be able to catch them turned down the next street over, but they weren't there. It was as if the steel-eyed guy and his dog had just disappeared into thin air.

In an act of frustration, the gang member threw his cap against the nearest wall, where it bounced off without a sound, barely akin to the irritation he felt at letting the man slip by. He had known the whole time hadn't he? That he was being followed. He must have!

And so that meant...the guy had just been playing him!

In his moment of lost composure, his back was turned towards the figure making their way inconspicuously towards him. Once the man noticed his presence he whipped around, but then relaxed instantly.

The teen in the headphones then pulled down his hood.

To be safe, Ryder took a longer detour through town than he had to. It was a precaution, to give him time to snuff out whether or not anyone else had their eyes set out of tailing him. The loss of time was well worth the risk. Only once he was sure, and neither he nor Kota caught the sense of anyone else out of the ordinary, did he give up on the mindless wandering through random streets and charter a new course back to his home.

He didn't like the idea that he had been stalked for the better half of his morning—it had really screwed up his plans to avoid dealing with anything bothersome for the first half of the day so that he wouldn't be agitated and on edge for the rest of it.

So much for that plan.

Never mind. He had lost the guy. It was over.

He looked down at Kota walking along his side, and at the slight gesture of movement the shepherd turned and tilted his head up in response, and then Ryder smiled.

'You should try smiling for once...it might brighten up that storm cloud mood of yours.'

He looked up and scowled once again. He did not need to smile more often and he did not have a 'storm cloud' mood.

With an eye roll of annoyance at the remembrance of the chippy waitress's comment, Ryder shoved his hands in his pockets and craned his neck back to stare straight up into the branches of the trees that stood all around him. He lost himself for who knows how long just staring up at the sky as he could feel himself nearing his house, having walked these paths many times over the years.

Then Kota's body language changed. The canine suddenly stiffened, tensed and began looking behind them. Not a good sign. Ever.

Ryder stopped completely.

He knew how to read his dog's language like an extension of his own mind, and this was a warning. Something was wrong. Something was coming.

He narrowed his gaze, trying to follow Kota's gaze as he searched within the trees behind them. Kota growled and then barked once, not at the trees, but the sky.

And then Ryder heard it too. Something he knew, a low humming, too distinct to be mistaken for the sound of any woodland insects.

He whipped his gaze to the sky where he saw it; a black unmarked drone flying above the trees and heading straight overhead. The sudden realization hit him and Ryder mentally cursed. There was only one thing that could be a sign for, and that was trouble.

And judging from the way a camera hung from its frame and it appeared that it was being piloted, remotely, it meant that trouble was also not far behind.

He saw where the drone was heading.

And then he cursed.

Suddenly running as fast as he could through the woodlands, he weaved through the familiar terrain of soil and trees with Kota in the lead like a body of liquid. Racing as fast as he could move as he headed towards the house.